


Luke Hobbs Cannot Hide a Crush

by Pee_DoubleU_Pee



Category: Hobbs & Shaw (2019)
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Sparring, and literally everyone knows besides shaw, established crush by luke hobbs, not established relationship but like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21520147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pee_DoubleU_Pee/pseuds/Pee_DoubleU_Pee
Summary: 5 things Hobbs really likes about Deckard and 1 thing he really goddamn doesn't.
Relationships: Luke Hobbs/Deckard Shaw
Comments: 8
Kudos: 175





	Luke Hobbs Cannot Hide a Crush

1.

His fighting. 

Hobbs had many opportunities to appreciate it. When they fought each other, when they fought others, even one time when he caught him working out by himself. That had been an interesting encounter. 

It was two days after they defeated Brixton, Deckard and Hattie were staying were staying on Samoa for just a little while to recuperate and let things settle down in London. His family was more than happy to accept them into their home for as long as they needed, and his mama was making plenty of food for everyone. At dinner time on their second day staying in the Hobbs household, Luke was sent to go find the Shaw siblings and make them come eat. He didn’t want to find out what would happen if he didn’t comply(though he’s fairly sure it involved a slipper to the head) and agreed to do it. 

He first looked in the room that both Shaws were using. They had taken pretty much the whole day prior to just sleep and take it easy. With a deadly virus in Hattie’s blood, they needed every minute they could spare to cure her, only barely sleeping on too short plane rides and car trips. Luke didn’t even remember Deckard sleeping at all. The fear for his sisters life must have made it hard to put his mind to rest. So, when everything was really okay and done with, their bodies finally caught up with them and they spent hours just sleeping. 

Luke was sure he would find them both in the same positions again, but when he quietly crept into their room, he only saw Hattie sleeping softly in the bed. Deckard’s temporary bed was empty, nicely made like he had never been there at all. Turning to leave the room as quickly as he came, he heard Hattie mumble to him.

“He left early this morning,” she said into her pillow, not even turning to look at him. “I don’t know nothing else.”

“How do you know I’m here to find him and not you?” Luke said, not bothering with being quiet anymore. Hattie just turned and gave him a very poignant look, her hair falling into her face and obscuring some of her eyes. Luke still got the point. 

“Okay, sure, whatever. I just came to tell you guys that dinner is ready. And yes, that would include him as well.” Hattie rolled her eyes and slumped back against the bed. 

“If you can find him and get him to eat, I’ll come too,” she said, and that seemed like the end of their discussion, so he left. 

He didn’t have any other idea where Shaw would have gone. Where did he need to go? He was on an island, and they _just_ stopped a cataclysmic event from happening, and Shaw wanted to - what? Go sightseeing? 

He started off by looking in the shop. Not too many people were in there, off having some well-deserved food, but the few stragglers that were there hadn’t seen him. He looked around the house and even questioned some of the kids playing outside(though his questions of ‘have you seen a bald, angry-looking princess?’ didn’t warrant much of a response), but nothing turned up. Luke sighed and dropped his shoulders. Time to start thinking like the best tracker in the world. 

Shaw left early in the morning, knowing him, with a goal in mind. He’s not exactly friendly, and there are a lot of people around here, so he’d want to go somewhere with no people. Which way though? One way had a bunch of rubble and car pieces covering the way. He probably wouldn’t go and do damage control, or mess around with the risk of a tetanus shot. There was nothing over there. One way just led into the thicket of trees. In the dark of the early morning, it would be hard to see where you were going, and there was nothing in there. It didn’t track with Deckard. Another way was just the cliffs. _Nothing._ The other way? That was where their fight with Brixton happened. The crashed helicopter was still there. Deckard wouldn’t - would he? Did he need closure or something? Did he need to make sure Brixton was actually dead and the threat was qualmed for the time being?

Did he need to mourn? 

Luke shook his head. No, that wasn’t him. Deckard regretted his actions and choices sometimes but he always moved on. He didn’t dwell. But still - there was _something_ over there. Luke began walking that way. 

It wasn’t a super long walk but still far enough removed from his house that someone could be alone if they wanted. And Deckard did want that. 

Luke wasn’t even expecting to see him when he did, he just looked up and there he was, swinging his leg at some invisible adversary, followed by three quick jabs. Without even knowing why, Luke ducked behind some of the plants on the path like he just caught him at an intimate moment. They weren’t even at the crash site yet, that was still a ways away. This place was - oh, this is where Hattie had hugged them and stopped them from fighting each other. Luke stopped to consider the implications of why Shaw would choose here. Looking back up, he saw Shaw turn swiftly around and bring his leg high up to roundhouse some poor imaginary foe. 

Luke narrowed his eyes. The asshole was probably imagining that he was fighting him. He rolled his eyes and moved to get out from behind the brush, he probably hadn’t even eaten yet, the dick. Luke just needed to bring him back home, get some food in him, put him back in bed, and then - hell, he didn’t know - put a bell on him or something. 

And yet, despite how he knew he needed to do these things, he didn’t move any farther forward. Now that he thought about it, he never really got the chance before to watch Shaw fight like this. Without having to watch his own back from bad guys too, that is. He got a brief moment at the Russian base, when he fought about 12 guys at once and Luke got to watch from a safe distance behind glass. And it was - god, it was hypnotic. 

Shaw knew exactly what he wanted his moves to be and executed them perfectly. He was able to think five steps ahead, processing how to incapacitate an opponent while dealing with two others. His moves went from one to the next in such a fluid way that it was hard not to think about how much of it was planned before he got there. 

Luke needed to tell Shaw that dinner was ready, but he watched. And watching he realized that Shaw was panting heavily and sweat dripped from him anytime he moved. _‘He left early this morning.’_ Hattie had said. He came here, probably at dawn or earlier, just to do this. Luke doubted he had spent the whole day just sparring the air, but he could only imagine that he exercised in other vigorous ways as well. While he was still recovering. 

He could see from his spot that Shaw’s cut on his head didn’t look any better than it had the day before. Newly formed, bone-deep bruises would surely ache as he punched and kicked. Not that he showed any discomfort. The only sign that anything was bothering him was that the exhaustion was clearly setting in. Breathe leaving him in heavy huffs, and longer moments to wait while he thought of his next action. 

Luke needed to tell him to stop and bring him back home. He _needed_ to. Because Deckard needed it. But he just couldn’t. Something about this moment where Deckard - bad-ass, capable, resourceful - Shaw thought he was alone to do as he wished seemed too private to be the one to interrupt in. 

He wasn’t a coward, he didn’t run from things, everyone knew that, but he felt that it needed to be family that pulled him out of his haze. And Luke just wasn’t family. He didn’t run. But in the end, he made Hattie go and get him. He didn’t give a reason, just that it was a sister thing and told her where he was at, and she glared at him and mumbled something, but went and did it. They ate dinner, and Luke watched Shaw to see if any signs of his day’s activities were setting in. They weren’t. He told Mrs. Hobbs how good the food was and quipped with Luke, but he didn’t get much of a response back. 

The Shaw siblings went back to bed, and Luke watched as they retreated, certain that Deckard would appreciate the rest. 

His mama ended up still hitting him on the head with her slipper. 

***

Now, the situation was a little bit different. 

Only two months after Brixton and they were already doing another job together. It wasn’t even anything hard, one or the other of them probably would have been enough, but Locke and Loeb - who had rented them out again - were insistent they do this together. 

There was no supervirus involved, just an up and coming organized crime group who had the potential to pose a real threat with their new and creative ways of making bombs(yes, Luke did make plenty of jokes about the correlation between Shaw and these guys, thanks for asking). It was encouraged they snip them right in the bud before they get too far in their headway. 

So, they were snipping. And punching. And just pretty much knocking out anyone who got in their path. There was no problem, really. These guys hadn’t been in business long enough to come across anyone like them so they were wildly unprepared. Shaw was taking the left side, Luke, the right, and making really good time as they got closer to where the head of the gang was holed up. The only thing these guys had on them, were numbers. Luke knew that young minds could often be easily influenced but, Jesus, this was ridiculous. 

They just kept coming in waves and sure, almost none of them were experienced fighters, but they could provide a distraction while one of the others got in some good shots. After a bit, Luke and Deckard were back to back and let the goons come to them rather than going through them. It was easy enough, Luke blocked and punched, and Shaw kicked and jabbed, and no attacks came from behind him. He knew they wouldn’t, and he knew that nobody would get past him to attack Deckard. 

As they neared the end of them, a big fella came charging at Luke and tried to tackle him. He held his ground but his feet still slid back just a little bit. The guy then started punching his ribs which were in a prime position for him. He grunted and looked back at Shaw, seeing him sending jab after jab at another guy who was just barely quick enough to avoid them. Shaw’s guy then tried his own punches but Shaw avoided them just as swiftly. He was backed up until he hit Luke’s back and then the guy was swinging at him. 

_“Hobbs,”_ he said, and he understood. With a bit of effort on his part, he pushed his guy back a few feet, and then they turned, feeling each other on their backs. Shaw’s guy didn’t have time to process what was happening before Luke brought down his fist with enough force to knock him to the ground, out cold. He quickly turned back to see how Shaw was doing with his big guy. 

Deckard, impressively, ducked out of the way of a fist and kneed the guy in the gut. When he doubled over, he jumped up onto his shoulders, and then he fell. Using the momentum of it, he turned and grabbed the guys neck, bringing him down as well and then smashed his face into the concrete floor. He groaned, but one more swift quick sent him unconscious. 

Luke, not so impressively, just stood there and stared. Eyes wide and mouth agape at another wonderful display of Shaw’s fighting abilities. Shaw shrugged and fixed his jacket, not even showing any traits of a fight happening, and turned to face him. 

“I think that’s finally the last of them, the bloody pests,” he said and Luke, in all his wisdom, just grunted and vaguely nodded. “Right, lets go get the last of the bombs from the boss and head out.” He began walking to the door at the end of the room while Luke’s feet just followed on an automatic response. 

When they reached the door, Shaw gave it a jiggle but it was locked, as was to be expected. He turned to face Luke, who was still trying to get his facial muscles back under control, and said, “Do you mind?”

Luke busted the door down easily, and the only guy in there didn’t jump but was sweating quite a bit. A trigger clutched tightly in his hand. 

“Don’t come any closer!” he said, making a point of waving his hand towards them. “Or I blow this whole place sky high.”

“Yeah, not bloody likely.” Shaw chuckled sarcastically and held his own device in his hand. “If you’re gonna make electronic bombs, don’t make them so easy to hack, yeah?” he said, and then two steps and knocked the guy out. He was working on cuffing him to make sure he wouldn’t try anything else, while Luke’s mind was still in another place. 

Thinking about how he took down the big guard made Luke wonder if he would do anything similar if he was fighting him. Would he climb up on him too? Legs and arms wrapping around him and use his own weight against him. Did Luke want him to? 

He looked over to where Shaw was as he made some remark about all the work it would take to bring these guys in, and how he was glad it wasn’t him. He rolled his shoulders and let a small smirk come to his face over a job well done and Luke was so _fucked._

***

His fantasy became a reality three months later when he was in London and managed to talk Shaw into letting him stay at his place under The Carpenters Arms while some bad guys roamed the streets looking for him. He didn’t need to stay very long, just until they gave up their search so he could slip out under their noses and back to the safety of his home. Deckard, who made a point of expressing how he would not be entertaining him, did throw an extra large pair of workout clothes at his face and told him to get ready. He just stared at the clothes, then up at Shaw, then back to the clothes. 

“And I’m getting ready for-?” 

“You and me, cupcake, we’re going at it,” he said making Luke heart stutter at a deeper implication. “I’ve been waiting to kick your arse for nearly five months now. And no one is around to stop us this time, either. So if you’re gonna be crashing at my place like some kind of freeloader, you’re gonna do what I say.”

“Ah, I see. Really impatient to have me stomp you into the ground, huh?” Luke said,recovering quick enough, but Deckard only rolled his eyes. “I thought you said you weren’t going to entertain me.”

“I’m not entertaining you, ya tosser. This is gonna be entertaining me. Right after I break up your big, dumb baby face.” 

“Oh, big words coming from a princess, are you sure you can back them up?” And then Deckard was lunging at him. He didn’t think it was in a fit of anger or anything but most likely that he was trying to catch him off guard, along with the workout clothes which he didn’t need since he was already wearing perfectly fine combat clothes. 

Shaw went for his gut first and Luke went to grapple him but he ducked out of the way at the last second and rolled, coming up and punching Luke’s knee. He couldn’t help but let his leg give out from under him, dropping down as Shaw quickly punched him across the jaw. 

He went for a second punch but Luke blocked and grabbed his wrist, sufficiently trapped him in his grasp then got up and threw Shaw across the bar top. As he also jumped across the bar, he had a brief thought that maybe they should have done this where none of Shaw’s stuff would get broken. 

The thought quickly diminished when he looked down and saw that Shaw was nowhere to be seen behind the bar. He heard a whistle and turned. He was greeted with a right hook and a kick to the side. The most jarring thing Luke realized was that it didn’t hurt that bad. They weren’t actually trying to kill each other this time, so they didn’t need to go full force with each other. 

The other thing he realized pretty quickly, right as he caught hold of Shaw’s second kick and used his leg to flip him onto his back, was that Shaw wasn’t being as resourceful as usual. A lot of times when he fought, he used things in his surroundings to his advantage, no matter what they might be. And there were plenty of useful things around here. 

Deckard did a backwards somersault and hopped back up, waiting for Luke to come to him this time, and he realized that Shaw must want to try to keep this fight as physical as he could. Fair. Luke could do fair. 

He couldn’t do just one simple thing, however. 

As he charged at Shaw and grabbed his thighs, pulling him and then slamming him down on the pool table, Shaw used his new vantage point to bring his legs up to wrap them around Luke’s rib cage while he hopped the rest of his body up and wrapped his arms around Luke’s neck, trying to bring him down with momentum. 

It was the same move he did three months ago with the big guard and suddenly all rational thought left him. He couldn’t fight Deckard Shaw right now. 

With his mind in other places, Shaw had the advantage he needed to get Luke off balance and stumbling. Luke only barely had enough of a rational thought to twist at the last moment as he fell and have Shaw take the brunt of the fall. And, oh yeah, this was worse. 

Luke was on top of Shaw now, in between his legs that were still caging his torso. He grunted once as his back hit the hard floor but there was still a fire in his eyes that showed in the heat radiating off him. Luke could _not_ fight Shaw right now. Deckard recovered quickly and pulled his fist back and began swinging, there was no time to react so-

“Okay.”

Shaw stopped mid swing, inches away from his target, face scrunching up at Luke. 

“Okay, what?” he asked, voice just this side of breathless and Luke didn’t know if he could be any more enamored than he already was. 

“Okay- you win,” he explained easily. He didn’t know how well he would continue to act in such a position so he got up quickly and offered a hand down to Shaw, helping him rise to his feet as well. 

“What are you talking about? That was barely even a tussle. What’s wrong with you?” he questioned like he had personally offended the whole Shaw name from previous ancestors to future generations still to come. 

“Nothing, I just thought you had the upper hand, so you won.” Luke shrugged and rolled his shoulders. “You have good moves though.” He gave him a half-hearted thumbs up and a side smile. 

Deckard was still looking at him like he was concussed, which he might have been, but he ultimately sighed, rolled his eyes, and walked away. He walked back over to the bar and pulled out two glasses that hadn’t been damaged in their fight and filled them up, sliding one across the counter for Luke. 

“I don’t believe you in the slightest, but I’m still taking this as a victory. Wanker,” he said and started to down his drink. Luke took his, brought it to his lips, and watched Shaw’s throat move as he drank, before taking a sip of his own. 

“I expect a real fight out of you next time, yeah?” Shaw said, but Luke only waved him off, not really sure he could do it again; he decided to keep those thoughts to himself. 

Deckard ended up not entertaining him in any other way for his eight hour visit, and Luke went home, desperately needing a recovery period. They would see each other again, they always did, and Luke hoped he’d be better prepared next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream about shobbs with me on Tumblr: a-lazy-noodle


End file.
